


The Queen of England, Condoms, and Other Things Draco Malfoy Didn't Know About

by canonjohnlock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, AU-Drarry, Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Draco, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Friends to Lovers, HP: EWE, Humor, M/M, Post-Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Quidditch, Quidditch Coach Draco Malfoy, Top Harry, non Canon, pureblood, very mild smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonjohnlock/pseuds/canonjohnlock
Summary: In which Harry and Draco are friends, and Draco is resolutely pure-blooded and knows nothing about Muggles. And then they are more than friends and Draco is still resolutely pure-blooded.





	The Queen of England, Condoms, and Other Things Draco Malfoy Didn't Know About

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting in my Google Drive for a while and just thought I would post it. I hope you enjoy!

Harry stares at Draco across the table at The Leaky, and wonders, not for the first time, how someone as inherently intelligent as Draco Malfoy could be so stupid. And yes, he and Draco are on close enough terms that Harry doesn’t feel weird about inwardly complimenting him, nor that he can call him Draco. And yes, Draco calls him Harry instead of Potter. Okay, sometimes he  _ does _ still call him Potter out of spite, but it’s also endearing, if that’s even possible. But mostly, he calls him Harry, and sometimes, after he heard a friend of a friend of Harry call him Haz, he adopted that nickname as well, which also makes Harry’s heart melt. Just a little. Not that he would ever admit that. 

“Harry?” Draco says, bringing his attention back to the ridiculous topic at hand.

“Are you shitting me?” Harry asks.

“No.”

“Of course you’re not,” he sighs and takes a long pull from his pint. “The world is round, Draco, I’m sure of it.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Draco protests. “If it were round, wouldn’t we be able to see it curve or something?”

“You can. If you’re in the middle of the ocean or something.”

“Have you  _ been _ to the middle of the ocean, Harry?”

“Well, no, but-”

“But what?” he prods, in that voice that suggests he thinks he is winning the argument and Harry would be damned if Draco somehow convinced him the Earth wasn’t round.

“We’ve been to the sodding moon, Draco. I’m pretty sure it’s fairly obvious from the damn moon that Earth is round.”

“We’ve been to the  _ moon _ ?” Draco shouts.

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry groans and orders another pint from Hannah.

###

Draco is a little league Quidditch coach. Because that’s a thing. Apparently. A lot of things are things, Harry thinks, and is glad he didn’t say that out loud. Apparently him and Draco being friends is a thing. Apparently him finding Draco slightly (okay more than slightly) attractive is a thing. That last fact is always made painfully obvious when Harry goes to Teddy’s Quidditch matches. Teddy’s five now, and his hair stays a solid color most of the time. The other half of the time it changes constantly, like… hair that changes color constantly. Screw it. He can’t think of good metaphors when Draco is down on the pitch, sweat making his  _ Muggle _ band t-shirt (ACDC) that he got from Harry stick to his skin. How does he manage to look so good?

“Harry, are you watching the game or Malfoy?” Ron asks, shoving a Chocolate Frog into his hand.

“Yes,” he answers distractedly and looks up at the players just in time to see Teddy block a shot from the opposing team. “Good one, Ted!” he yells.

“Surprised you saw that block,” George says from his other side, “given how entranced you are with Malfoy.”

“Whoa, back up. Entranced? I was watching the game the whole time!”

“No, you were watching Draco watch the game,” Hermione comments from Ron’s other side.

“Did I tell you what he asked me the other day?” Harry asks, hoping to derail the current conversation from Draco to, well, more Draco. At least the Draco in the story he is about to tell was dressed in Wizard’s robes and not a Muggle band t-shirt that Harry introduced him to…

“What did he do?” Ron asks.

“He thought the Earth was- NICE BLOCK, TEDDY! I SEE YOU!” He stands up from his seat to cheer. (And okay maybe sort of prove he  _ is _ watching the game.) “-thought the Earth was flat,” Harry concludes and sits on the Chocolate Frog Ron had given him.

“It’s not?” George wonders and nicks the card from beneath Harry’s crushed chocolate. “Ugh, I got Ron again. As if I don’t see enough of his freckled face as it is.”

Harry exchanges a look with Hermione, and looks back at Draco in time to see him lift the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face.

“And he’s out for the count,” Hermione mumbles, opening her own Chocolate Frog and getting Ron’s card as well.

###

“You’re serious,” Harry deadpans. This time they’re at a new Wizards’ pub in Hogsmeade. Harry can’t remember the name of it. Dragon something or other. Harry isn’t alone in his exasperation  though. Hermione, Dean, and Seamus are also staring at Draco incredulously.

“Did you even go to school before Hogwarts?” Dean asks.

Draco scoffs. “Of course I did. Father hired the best tutors.”

“And you were never taught about British monarchy,” Hermione continues.

“There is no monarchy in England!” Draco says. “Not anymore!”

“Oh my god,” Seamus says and lays his head on the table. “I can’t believe you were at the top of our class in school.”

“Hermione was at the top,” Ron adds in as he comes back with their pints. “What’s going on?”

“Draco doesn’t believe England has a queen,” Harry fills in.

Hannah shakes her head. “I’m pure-blooded and I know we have a queen.”

“I learned it our second year,” Neville says. “Dean told me about her. She seems sweet.”

“We have a queen?” Ron asks.

Harry drops his head onto the table next to Seamus. “Purebloods,” they mumble, and dissolve into giggles.

###

The first time Draco sees an airplane is on his and Harry’s first date. Harry has taken him to a Muggle football game because they both like sports and football is fun to watch. Plus, no one will recognize them at a Muggle sporting event, so it’s a win-win.

“Holy shit!” Draco screams, causing a mother to cover her young child’s ears. “What the hell is that?!”

Harry looks up to where Draco is pointing and heaves an inward sigh. “An airplane, Draco. Keep your voice down.” The match hasn’t even begun yet, and Harry doesn’t fancy getting kicked out before they even get a glimpse of the teams.

“What’s it doing, Haz?” Draco asks in a mercifully quieter voice. Harry’s heart clenches at the nickname.

“Flying.”

“How? Do Muggles have some kind of magic?”

“They have science. Bernoulli's principle, I think. High pressure and low pressure keeps it up.”

“Muggles can fly?” he asks, sounding astonished still.

“With much effort, yes. That one looks like a passenger flight, so it’s taking Muggles from one place to another.”

“I thought they had auto-mo-bye-els.”

“Automobiles,” Harry corrects. “And they do, but sometimes you can’t get somewhere by car, you know? Like America, for instance.”

“Can’t they take boats or something?” Draco asks as  Harry grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down so he won’t climb over the family in front of them in order to stare at the plane for a bit longer.

“I’m sure they could, but it would take ages to get to America by boat. It takes, like, half a day to get there by air.”

“As opposed to?”

“A few months, I think, by boat.”

“Amazing,” Draco breathes as the plane disappears beyond the stadium.

###

Harry realizes he is in love with Draco during the little league Quidditch championship. It’s pouring down rain and though some parents have attempted to shield the pitch from it, the charms aren’t really working because they were so distracted. At least the effort is there. Teddy’s team is playing, coached by Harry’s very own Draco Malfoy, and they’re in the lead thus far. The game’s only been on for about half an hour when one of the Chasers on Draco’s team gets hit by a Bludger and falls off her broom. Draco is the first one by her side, and as Harry watches from the sideline, he even makes her giggle a little through her tears. Draco is wet from the rain, water clinging to his fringe, which he has been meaning to get cut for ages. He reaches up and pushes his hair back and ducks over the girl again. He casts a strong Shield Charm to protect them from the rain leaking through the parents’ shields and manages to keep it up even with his attention divided.

“You’re staring,” Andromeda says from beside him.

“I think I’m in love,” he admits, leaning back in his seat but not taking his eyes off Draco.

“With my nephew, no less.” She smiles at him, but he is too busy staring at Draco to notice. “He’s a good man, Harry. He’s learned his lessons.”

“I know.” On the pitch, Draco pulls a funny face, making the girl laugh as they wait for the Healers to get down to the field. “Is it always like this? Feeling like your heart is going to burst?”

Andromeda touches Ted’s wedding ring, which is strung on a chain around her neck. “It never stops.”

“It hurts a bit.”

“That’s when you know it’s real,” she says.

“Oh, Merlin, I am so screwed.” Draco looks up and catches Harry’s eye. He grins widely at him before returning his attention back to the Chaser. So. Damn. Screwed.

###

“What the hell are these?” Draco asks. He’s laying on one side of Harry’s bed, clad only in one of Harry’s t-shirts and nothing else. It’s the morning after their first time, and Harry feels a bit sore, but in a good way.

“What are what?” Harry yawns, pulling his gaze away from Draco’s perfect bum.

Draco shoves Harry’s box of condoms in his face. “They look like balloons,” he giggles and rips a package open and starts blowing it up. And that shouldn’t turn Harry on but it does.

“They’re, um, condoms. A type of Muggle contraceptive.”

“What’ve you got ‘em for?” he asks, and lets the air out of the condom. It makes a loud noise as the air leaves it and Draco laughs.

“You know.”

“Sex? With who?” Draco doesn’t seem jealous, just honestly curious.

“Before we started dating, sometimes I would go out with Muggles, and well, I couldn’t use spells with them, so I had to compromise,” Harry explains.

“Weird,” he says. “What do you do with them, exactly?”

Despite what they had just done the night before, Harry’s cheeks flame up. “Well, uh, you roll them on, you know.”

Harry suddenly squawks when Draco straddles his hips and rips open a new condom. “Like this?” he asks, rolling the condom onto Harry.

“Engh, yes,” Harry moans.

“Then what?”

“Oh god, um. Sex. Oral or whatever else.”

“Oh! It’s ridged!” Draco exclaims, pumping his hand up and down. “What’s the point of it though?”

“It, god, Draco. It catches the cum so girls don’t get pregnant. Don’t stop.”

“What about if you’re using it with two guys?”

“Oh, fuck. It prevents STDs. Draco, keep going.”

“Interesting,” Draco says, and sits on Harry’s cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Harry moans. Draco is still loose from last night, and definitely pliant. “Fuck, Draco.”

“Yes, exactly. Now hop to it!” Draco laughs, patting Harry’s cheek and then leaning down to kiss him.

###

Draco has moved in with Harry. His mugs are in the cabinets, his shampoo in the shower, and his favorite cereal in the pantry. Harry doesn’t mind in the slightest. He enjoys getting the little glimpses into Draco’s life and routines. He shaves with his left hand, instead of his right, because, “The first time I shaved was in third year when I was pretending to have a bum arm from that hippogriff. I just got used to using my left hand.” He also has to leave his conditioner in for exactly two minutes and thirty-seven seconds or else his hair won’t “get the right sheen, Scarhead, Merlin.” He takes his tea with milk and sugar, except in the mornings when he takes his milk and sugar with a splash of tea. He’s mastered the Summoning Spell without his wand and he likes to press his cold feet against Harry’s calves when they cuddle in bed. He mouths the words as he reads and never, ever dog-ears his pages. He buttons his shirts from bottom to top and zips his fly before he buttons his pants. Draco Malfoy has infiltrated Harry’s life. And Harry is loving it.

But when he gets home from the DMLE one day to find Draco sitting at the kitchen counter looking like someone has just died, Harry’s heart drops. “Draco? What is it?” he asks, hanging his cloak up by the door.

“I don’t know what I did. This has never happened before,” Draco whispers and shoves the photo album towards Harry.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The photo album belonged to his mum. They’re full of Muggle photos of Lily and Petunia and their parents. It’s one of the only things Harry has left of his mum, besides his baby blanket. If Draco ruined it… “Draco?”

“The pictures aren’t moving. I swear, Haz, they were like that when I took it down from the shelf. I only wanted to look because I always heard people saying you had your mum’s eyes and I wanted to see for myself. I saw her name on the binding and I- What are you laughing for?” Draco cries.

Harry smiles. “You didn’t break anything, love,” he says. “They’re Muggle photos, so they don’t move.”

“What?”

“Muggle photos don’t move. You didn’t break anything. It’s okay.”

Draco lets out a breath. “Oh, thank Merlin. I was so worried.” He grabs the book back and flips it open to a random page. In the center of the page is a photograph of Harry’s mum. The photo is dated as the thirtieth of January, 1970, exactly one year before she would receive her Hogwarts letter. She is smiling brightly at the camera, a few flowers stuck in her hair. The photo is faded a bit, the colors leaning more towards a sepia hue, but her eyes are bright in the photo. It’s her tenth birthday. Harry sees Snape lurking in the background of the photo, on the opposite side of the room as Petunia.

“You do have her eye shape,” Draco says, running his fingers over the photo.

“Hold on. I have some better photographs up in our room. Sirius gave them to me.” Harry darts up the stairs and comes back with another photo album, this one full of moving pictures. Harry flips to a photo of his parents standing in front of the Hogwarts castle doors. They are both smiling with Head Girl and Boy badges gleaming on their robes. James leans down and kisses Lily’s cheek, causing her to laugh and blush lightly.

“Oh, wow,” Draco breathes, leaning in to stare at the picture. “Your eyes match hers exactly.”

“You think?” Harry asks.

“Mhmm,” Draco hums and flips to the next page. It’s a photo of Sirius, Remus, Peter, James, and Lily all by the Great Lake. Their backs are to the camera, and Harry has no idea who took the photo, but Sirius is flicking water on Remus and Peter, while Lily rests her head on James’ shoulder. The photo next to it is of Sirius and James in the Great Hall. They’re tossing grapes at each other and trying to catch them in their mouths and Peter’s cheering in the background. Harry has absolutely no idea how they captured the next one, but it’s of the four of them in their Animagus forms. Peter is sleeping on top of Remus’ head and Sirius blocks the view when he licks the camera.

Harry and Draco spend the next few hours combing through photo albums and laughing at the funny shots and smiling at each other. The next day, Harry goes out and buys a camera so he can document his and Draco’s time together. He’ll take some the Muggle way, just as reminder that Draco once thought he somehow broke a Muggle photograph.

###

“Are you fucking serious,” Harry swears. He considers flicking his wedding band at Draco, but he had done that once before and they spent a frantic two hours looking for it in the crowded pub before remembering they were wizards and used a Summoning Charm.

“It made sense!” Draco says in a weak attempt to defend himself.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I thought it had been a cheap way to combine Wizard and Muggle culture. I had no idea the Muggles came up with the idea themselves!”

“Draco, you’re twenty-seven years old and you think Santa is real.”

“I don’t anymore! Merlin!”

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“What happened this time?” Hermione asks, sliding into the seat next to Harry.

“He thinks Santa is real.”

“Not anymore!” Draco repeats, the tips of his ears turning red.

“For fuck’s- Really, mate?” Ron says. He slides a pint to Harry and Draco, and a water to Hermione, who just found out she’s pregnant.

“A man who travels around the world in one night delivering gifts? Seems logical to me. I thought it was a way of easing the idea of magic into Muggle culture.”

“Okay, I see your point there, but you’re twenty-” Ron begins.

“I know how old I am!”

Harry scoffs, “Santa.”

“Shut up,” Draco mutters.

“You know I love you, right?” Harry asks, smiling and nudging Draco under the table.

“And I love you, too, Scarhead.”

“Eulgh. You’re making me sick,” Ron says.

Harry grins at his best friend over his pint and hooks his ankle around Draco’s under the table. Draco may be a stupid pureblood, but he’s Harry’s stupid pureblood, so he guesses he can put up with it.

“Hey!” Draco protests.

“Hmm?”

“You said that last bit out loud,” Hermione says.

“Oh, well, am I wrong?”

And if Draco “accidentally” spills a full pint on Harry’s lap and makes Harry get a new one, well, Draco is Harry’s very own stupid pureblood.

 


End file.
